Acolytes
by Magneto's Revenge
Summary: Exactly what does it mean to be an Acolyte?
1. A Modest Proposal

Like my Tekken fic, this is another AU/Self-insert, and it was written for Cheryl, the very same friend also actually in said Tekken fic. It's rated PG-13 for Magnus' and Logan's filthy mouths, mostly. It's a little cheesy at the beginning because it was meant to be a graphic novel, so it was originally in script form, so I'm working on the narrative still. That's why most of my stories don't get updated too often. Sorry.

Disclaimer: The X-Men, the Brotherhood, and the Acolytes all belong to Marvel comics. (The characters are based mostly from their Uncanny X-Men personalities, but the X-Men's uniforms are closer to the Ultimate X-Men versions). Cheryl and I belong to us, and this story is all mine. Onward!!

Magneto's Revenge   
  
The night was cold and dark when the Misfits made their move, stealthily gliding across the Manhattan rooftops. As they leapt from building to building, their two sole members, Cheryl and Kiley, watched tentatively for shadows, and also watched as they came closer to the roof of the National Bank Headquarters.

Silently they came upon the bank and crept to the vent entrance. The older one, Kiley, motioned to her companion to bring out the pliers. Cheryl did so, gave Kiley a pair, and they worked at the screws and cut the wires to the electric alarm before opening the vent.

Together they lifted the metal grate, and a flush of warm air blew over their faces. It was a welcome relief from the winter cold. Kiley helped Cheryl lower herself into the system first, and then deftly hopped in, bringing a large burlap sack with her.

They didn't have to crawl far to find another grate that led inside. It was over one of the offices on the top floor, and they climbed out there, broke the lock on the door, and cautiously looked around for any sign of company.

There was no one. Even if there had been, the two women would have been ready. These two were no ordinary human beings; they were Mutants; Children of the Atom, and had special powers to aid them in their mission. These powers had been the reason they had chosen this lifestyle. Not so much because their hearts were filled with greed, but because it amused them. The friends enjoyed their time together, and they reveled in the thrill of being on the run. They did not hide their identities; they had never been caught because they had not yet met a man or woman who was not afraid of their skilled martial arts and special powers.

Mutants were still seen as a great threat to humanity, and despite the heroic efforts of some, they were hated, much as lowlifes, mass murderers, and tax collectors were. There was no place in society for known mutants. Most resorted to lives of solitude, lives of malice, or lives of crime. All three qualities ran hot in both girls' blood. Humans who had once been their friends abandoned them. They were run from their hometowns by their own families. Thus they met, here, in Manhattan, two small, starving children, ten years ago. Now both were grown, healthy women, eighteen years of age, and living their lives the best they knew how.

They ran on their toes all the way down the marble spiral staircase, down to the basement level where they knew the safe and all of the safe deposit boxes would be. They reached a large, wooden door at the bottom, and found it was unlocked. Someone was inside. Kiley motioned for silence as she reached into her belt pocket and took out a small pebble. She kept several small odds and ends in her pockets. These were what she required for the use of her abilities.

She concentrated her enhanced energies into the pebble, and her hand glowed with a dark flame. She threw it into the crack in the doorway and released her consciousness. The pebble exploded, and a rip in space appeared. The guard in the room spun toward the sudden noise, stricken with terror. This was nothing compared to he saw next.

Through the rip a large, bat-like creature with a slithering, black tongue clawed its way out, shrieking and roaring. The girls watched the night guard claw at the walls trying to escape, but the demon, for that's what it was, was quickly upon him.

"Not today, my dear. Just keep him there while your master takes of this treasure he's been greedily hoarding here." Kiley spoke to the creature when she came into the room. The guard watched her graceful steps as she neared the safe, eagerly waiting to be freed. When Kiley reached out to the combination lock, the guard reached for his gun. The demon instantly bent its neck and bit his hand, deeply burying its teeth into the soft flesh, straight through leather gloves. An agonized scream escaped him.

Kiley put her steely gaze on him as Cheryl made her entrance, appearing similarly stoic.

"You'd best keep still," she stole a glance at his name badge, "Michaels. They're usually completely obedient, but you never know what may make them angry." Her eyes narrowed, and a thin smile played across her lips. Michaels was already having trouble breathing, but he realized now that these teenagers were mutants. He gasped for breath through the shock, the pain, and the weight of the demon standing on his chest, and looked on helplessly as the safe was easily cracked open by the two women.

They removed the door by its hinges and began to quickly put stacks of dollar bills into their sack.

The door slammed into the wall with a crash following several terse metallic shrieks. Cheryl and Kiley spun around, ready to fight more guards, but standing there was a large, feral man wearing a black leather uniform with short sleeves and black gauntlets, a belt with an 'X' on it, and hair that looked unceremoniously, but deliberately, groomed. His hair came down his ears in thick sideburns that turned into a scruffy beard, but his chin was hairless. His forearms were covered in thick hair as well.

"Out for a late night withdrawal, ladies?" he said in a gruff snarl, his fists out in front of him. The girls lowered their stances, ready for an attack, and this new intruder was followed by several more men and women with similar uniforms. They all watched the girls for any movement. Kiley and Cheryl looked at them smugly, then stepped forward.

The man that had first walked in smirked, and three, foot-long blades shot out of the back of each hand between his knuckles. The two stopped again, wide-eyed, and suddenly unsure. Kiley slowly moved her hand to her belt pocket.

"You're mutants as well, I suppose?" Cheryl started, eyeing each of them.

"That's right, Cheryl." An older, bald man rolled forward in a wheelchair. "We've come here to find you, actually, and your friend Kiley." He said, smiling at them.

"And I suppose you want us to work for you? Or perhaps you want to take us into custody?" she hissed, elbowing Kiley, having noticed an opening for them to escape. Kiley's arm bolted forward, tossing several small stones into the group before them, all transforming into the rip. From each came demons, all even more gruesome than the first. Knowing their master's will, they attacked the intruders, allowing Kiley and Cheryl to run. As they passed, Cheryl shoved the sack into the large man's arms, shouting "at least they'll have you to blame for this, chums." And they raced back up the stairs and out the front door, setting off the alarm.

"We'll find them again, my X-Men." The older man steepled his fingers in front of his face, perplexed.

"They got away, Charles, and they don't trust us." A red-haired woman floated next to him as they raced back toward their jet and away from the creatures at their heels, which were beginning to return to their own realm. Charles' wheelchair hindered his speed, but they had a few moments before police would arrive.  
"Yes. But I believe they will come around, Jean. They will come to realize they cannot survive on their own soon enough. We must be patient. We cannot force them."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Cheryl and Kiley continued running, although they knew they were no longer being pursued. "This is bad," Cheryl snarled, "we've never been caught before."

"They didn't catch us, we're still free. We don't even know how they found us. They weren't there when we arrived, we know that for sure." Kiley responded, equally agitated.

They ran into an alleyway to rest. They could not risk being seen now.

"I didn't like the look of them. The hairy one could be trouble." Cheryl leaned against the wall. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked toward Kiley.

"He looked a bit too wild for us to handle on our own." Kiley agreed as a breeze rushed by her cheek.

"What is it?" Cheryl watched Kiley, tense.  
"There's someone here."

They watched around them, standing back-to-back, looking for anything.  
"Looking for a good time, babes?"  
They looked all around again, and then up. On a ladder above them sat a grinning young man, not much older than they, and yet his hair was as white as snow. His blue eyes sparkled mischievously, and he waved at them, winking. Suddenly, he was standing with his arm around Cheryl.

"It's dangerous out here at this hour, ya know?" Cheryl turned and tried to catch him, but he was already similarly leaning on Kiley, on the other side of the alley. "You could really get," he reached behind her and pushed her shoulders forward, "hurt." Kiley quickly turned as she stumbled to slug him, but again he was gone.

They turned toward the exit of the alley to flee, but there he was with a smug smirk playing across his face. This was the first chance they got to get a good look at him. He was tall and thin, and stood with an arrogant air about him. He wore casual jeans with a white muscle shirt under a jacket of black leather. His white hair was slicked back, except for two loose strands at his hairline, which blew freely about his head in the cold air as he stood there, smirking with his arms folded across his chest. They noticed a glint of metal in his left ear.

"What do you want?" Cheryl growled at him, still uneasy with the speed with which he moved.

"My father and I have a proposition for the both of you." He disappeared again, suddenly between the two of them with an arm over each girl's shoulder. "One I think you'll be _dying_ to take on."

"Are you with those maggots from the bank with the bald cripple?" Kiley shoved his hand off of herself.

"Who, the X-Men? No, no, no, you've got me all wrong, babe. Xavier and his lackeys have nothing to do with me."

"Well, then, who are you?"

Sensing they were getting more annoyed, he sped back toward the alley exit.

"Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver, at your service." He bowed regally then returned to his cocky stance.

"And what is this 'proposition' of yours?"  
"Stop frightening them, Pietro. Your answer shall come soon, my dear." A new, deeper, more suave voice floated down from the rafters, and with it a tall, older man with silver hair and blue eyes, just like Pietro's, came. Unlike his son, this man wore a uniform of purple and magenta, with tall boots and gauntlets, and a strange, metal helmet. Both girls gasped and fell backward to be caught by Pietro, for this man was literally flying to them. His purple cape fluttered behind him as he touched the ground before them. His large, strong, gloved hand flashed out magnificently to his side, revealing a well built, muscular chest underneath the cape.

"I am Magneto; do not be afraid, I am not here to harm you. Actually, I have come to hire you. Your skills can help my cause considerably." Behind the mask, his teeth flashed in a debonair smile.

"You are Magneto?" Cheryl pointed in disbelief at the man who began to move toward them. He took their hands in his and spoke in a dramatic manner:  
"I know what you both have been through, my ladies, and I have experienced much the same persecution in my younger days. But now, I am feared, as you will be feared if you join my Acolytes." He finished with a vivid wave of his arm as if setting up a stage for them to envision. He removed his helmet and placed it under his arm.

"As tempting as that may sound, Magneto, we're not up for hire." Cheryl said coldly. She pulled her hand from his and looked to her friend to back her up. She found, however, that Magneto's ice-cold, suave gaze was taking its effect on her. His eyes narrowed, knowing the effect it was having on her. A low, throaty chuckle escaped him, and Cheryl knew Kiley was now far gone.

Magneto's build was powerful, his face like a stone statue, his jaw set perfectly in a stern frown, but when he smiled, his faultless teeth glinted in the dim lights of the alleyway, and rugged but evenly-shaven patches of facial hair bristled. This was a dangerously handsome man with an equally dangerous mind. Both women had heard of the genius of the 'Master of Magnetism', but they had never seen his face.

Cheryl looked back at Pietro, who winked at her when he looked away from the other two and saw her staring at him. Pietro was like a copy of his father. He had all the same features, and yet he was not as large, and this made him appear somewhat boyish, which gave him his own kind of captivating appearance, but was fairly less alluring.

Kiley knew what he was doing to her as well, and she didn't much like his attempt at manipulating her with his brawny good looks, but Magneto was her idol. How could she refuse this offer to join with him to see his ideals become reality, to put humanity in its place? Not only did his ideals appeal to her, but also she had to admit he was handsome, let alone cunning, a criminal genius, the only kind of man for her. Cheryl cut in again.

"We don't much care for taking orders. From anyone. Not even you, Magneto, no matter how much we admire your cause." She felt better when she saw that Kiley had returned to her usual emotionless expression, with a slightly annoyed twitch. Magneto chuckled again and wrapped his free arm around Kiley's shoulders.

"Your friend seems to not like me too much now that we've met face to face," he continued quickly as Cheryl tried to interject, "but perhaps you can be more reasonable, yes? Your hatred for the human race burns your soul, and you spend your lives thieving. With my Acolytes, you can do so much more..." he paused, letting Kiley's imagination fill in the rest, "With me, you could be great. If you join me, we can work together to take this earth that rightfully belongs to us, mutants, the new dominant species. Those who have harmed you will be your slaves, cowering before your every whim!" his arm holding his helmet came to his chest in a fist. He paused again, waiting for her to respond to his display.

"Unfortunately, Magneto, neither of us adjust well to taking orders." Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled away from him.

Magneto had not expected this. They began walking away from him, and Pietro reluctantly moved aside, allowing them to leave, equally astonished.

"Sorry, boys." Cheryl called over her shoulder, indifferently.

"You know," Magneto turned again toward them, planting his feet firmly and replacing his helmet on top of his head, "your real parents weren't human." Both girls stopped cold. "You were both adopted as infants. Your parents were mutants as well. I can tell you who you are."

"How could you possibly know that?" Kiley snapped, spinning on her heel. She looked infuriated, her eyes burning and her jaw fixed.

"Let us just say that I have been watching you." He smirked, knowing he now had them. Cheryl and Kiley looked at each other, still unsure.

"I see that you still hesitate, my ladies. Well, then, what if I made a slightly different proposal?" Pietro's interest piqued, "Suppose I put you in charge of my whole operation, taking orders from me, and me alone? I need cunning like yours in my organization, and at the moment, my son here is the only member who knows the meaning of stealth. I need you. I will give you anything." Magneto's voice became a low purr. "Anything..."

Again, Cheryl and Kiley looked doubtfully at each other.

"Father..." Pietro stepped forward.

Magneto held his hand up for silence with a dark expression as he watched the girls ponder.

"Magneto," Kiley finally said, "your offer tempts us, but we will not be sold so easily. Come and find us in three days. If you can locate us at the end of the third day, we will join you, regardless of our decision. We want you to show us your own cunning." her arms crossed.

"And it must be you who finds us, Magneto, not one of your lackeys." Cheryl added. And with that, they ran. Magneto chuckled.

"And so, the hunt is on..."

"Father, what makes you think they will keep their word?"

"They will, Pietro, or they will regret making promises they do not intend to keep, despite their importance to me." He turned, cape billowing behind, and once again touched off the ground and flew off, followed by the swift-footed Pietro by land, off to Genosha, where Magneto's headquarters resided.


	2. Sean Cassidy's Dilemma

X-Men, Acolytes, Brotherhood all belong to Marvel comics. There. I said it. Again.  
  
Kiley and Cheryl belong to us. I said that again.  
  
Enjoy. I don't believe I've said that yet... Indeed. Please do. (And review.)  
  
The instant Sean Cassidy heard that his fellow X-Men had returned from a scouting mission in the metropolis, he anxiously marched to the elevator that led to the lower levels of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, the secret high-tech base of the mutant team. Sean was left behind to watch over the children while two local mutant signatures were being investigated. His suspicions about one of the mutants was now leading him to the side of his Professor Xavier, the founder and loving mentor of the team. The entire time they had been gone, Sean paced restlessly, tapping his chin with a rigid index finger, a nagging question playing in his brain.  
  
"Was I correct? Was it her?" Sean asked as he stepped inside Cerebro, his thick Irish accent muddled with unease. Sean was nearly shaking with impatience while the professor removed his connection to Cerebro, a large metal receptor that attached to his head in three key places, which allowed his psychic mutant abilities to be amplified by the machine.  
  
"I believe so. I can't be sure, since I've never met her before myself, but I do believe she was the woman you are looking for. Although, she is very different from what you remember, my friend." Xavier's calm tone relaxed the fidgeting Irishman a bit, and he followed Xavier out the automatic doors of Cerebro's main chamber, into the mansion's underground.  
  
"I would imagine that after what happened to her she would not be the same person. I hold no delusions that she may be the same as she was all those years ago." Sean looked away as he and Xavier entered the elevator that would take them up to the living quarters. There, the other X-Men were waiting to be briefed.  
  
"I'm glad you're being realistic about this, Sean. But I also want you to have faith. I don't think it's hopeless, you know." Xavier steepled his fingers in front of him as his wheelchair glided across the floor on its own. Sean often found it amazing how the professor could have so many things on his mind at once, and at the same time, control his own transport, among other things, telekinetically. For today, he would have to try to not think about that.  
  
"Of course I have faith. At one time she was my..." Sean stopped when the elevator doors slid open and the X-Men stood on the other side, facing them. He did not continue. He did not believe the others should hear what he had to say to Xavier. Instead, he lowered his head and looked at the ground, remaining silent for some time.  
  
"Whaddaya want us to do, Chuck? Those gals've skipped town, haven't they?" the ever blunt Wolverine cut in, despite noticing the distressed look on Sean's face.  
  
"I think we're going to leave them alone for the time being, Logan," Xavier glided out of the elevator to join the rest of the X-Men, and Sean hesitantly followed, "they had a bit of a scare upon leaving us that night- I believe they were visited by Magneto."  
  
"Magneto, sir?" Cyclops and several others in the room instantly jumped when they heard the name of their most powerful adversary. It had been some months since they had heard anything about the 'Master of Magnetism', and they had just begun to feel accustomed to the greatly appreciated break.  
  
"I cannot be entirely sure that Magneto was there- that helmet of his blocks my psychic abilities-but his son Quicksilver was, and he gave the Misfits quite a fright. I believe Magneto singled them out for a hunt and told Pietro to find them for him. I would even dare to say that the preparation for this confrontation is the reason Magneto has made himself scarce lately."  
  
"You mean he wants to recruit them, Charles?" Ororo Munroe started, her finely shaped eyebrows rising on her forehead. Sean looked up at Ororo, his friend, one of the only completely rational people he knew, with the exception of Xavier and Jean Grey. Her expression looked very strange, but it always had, due to her dark complexion accompanied by stark white, flowing hair. She always looked very dignified in everything she did, and Sean respected her more than he did most. The fact that she normally did not exhibit pupils also added to her exotic appearance.  
  
"We cannot deny that, essentially, we would ask the same of them, if they would give us the chance. Both of them have very powerful, indeed useful, abilities. It is no surprise that Magneto would desire their allegiance himself. Particularly because of their tendency to turn towards crime for the mere thrill of it. Magneto probably sees that as a means of attracting them to his cause." Charles Xavier thought a moment and looked up at Wolverine, who had shifted impatiently, catching his attention.  
  
"Don't you think that's a good enough reason to go find them ourselves before ol' 'bucket head' gets the chance? We've got the more advanced equipment to do so." Logan was beginning to grow weary of the wait. Charles never did expect him to wait around like the others for him to give the order. Logan was a man of action, a man of principle, but most of all, a man of limited patience. He was cautious when he had to be, but did not feel that this was the time for it. Xavier allowed a brief sigh of apprehension escape him.  
  
"If you feel you must, Logan, I won't stop you. I would, however, rather that we wait until we know what it is exactly that Magneto said to them, what he wants with them. I feel that there is a great tempest arising for the near future, and none of us will be immune to its reach, whether X-Man, or Acolyte. Certainly, we live in dangerous times for mutants everywhere, but Magneto is up to something. Perhaps he senses it as well..." Charles dabbed his forehead with a small kerchief and looked up again. Logan was watching him with a concern the man rarely ever showed outwardly. Not so much for the words his mentor had spoken, but for his demeanor this day. Xavier's health was ailing, and he knew Logan could recognize that with his enhanced mutant senses. He moved on before the others could notice the pause.  
  
"The rest of us will be here awaiting more information, Logan. You may do as you wish, but please, don't endanger yourself, old friend. In fact, if you think you can, I want you to watch over them. Make sure that Magneto does not attack them," the professor's features hardened as he moved back toward the elevator to turn in for the night, watching Logan stand up straight from the corner of his eye, "they are headed West on foot for now, Logan. Take care not to let them find out you're tailing them."  
  
"Can do, Chuck," Logan saluted him lazily, "you be sure to take care o' yerself while I'm gone," he said more solemnly, and with that, he left. Charles' lips formed a faint smile, and he exited as well.  
  
Unsure what had just happened, Sean Cassidy watched the other X-Men follow suit and disperse, all ready for a well-earned sleep. Bobby Drake, also known as Iceman, one of the youngest team members, noticed the frustrated look that was still on his face and told him to hit the sack as well. He would have none of it.  
  
The incredible Banshee opened the broad doors to the opulent atrium of the mutant mansion, filled his lungs with the brisk night air, and let out a wailing shriek, taking flight, following after his friend the Wolverine, who would not be able to sense him from such a high altitude- even his sonic scream would go unheard from the long distance behind. 


	3. Irish

Banshee has a problem, and so far, Xavier is the only one who knows what it is. His past, and one of the Misfits have something to do with it. If he doesn't locate the two women before Magneto, he may never be able to reconcile himself with that past. This chapter is supposed to be "Irish", in quotation marks, but ff.net won't let me use the quotes.  
  
Marvel owns X-Men, Acolytes, and Brotherhood, and basically every character in this story except for Kiley, Cheryl, and those extra people whose names are completely random anyway (I'm serious. I draw them out of a hat). Anyway, Cheryl and Kiley are my best friend and I, so they belong to us and may not be used without permission.  
  
As a side note: you probably have no idea how irritating spell-check can be when you're trying to write vernacular, particularly with Banshee's brogue. -.- In MS Word, there are little red, squiggly lines under nearly every word he utters. Logan can be a bit of a problem too, sometimes. I hate you, MS Word! HATE!!  
  
Please remember to review!  
  
Sean touched down to the ground a little ways off from the train station Logan had entered. The Irishman knew that if he came too close, his teammate would instantly pick up on his scent. He stayed outside, leaning inconspicuously against the lobby window, and watched as Logan went to the ticket clerks and inquired about his prey. Sean perceived recognition on the face of the attendant immediately as Logan described the two women to him. As he tried to imagine what excuse Logan may have thought up to be looking for them, he almost didn't notice when Logan bought a ticket and came back toward the doors.  
  
Not wanting to attract attention by panicking, he remained where he was for a moment, turned away from the door with the collar of his long coat covering half of his face. Sean hoped that there were enough people around to hide his scent from the older X-Man, but wasn't holding his breath. Rethinking his decision to tag along, not knowing what Logan may do if he discovered him, he slowly began to saunter toward the exit. He heard a heavy boot fall against the wood platform behind him.  
  
"Here, Irish. I saved you the trouble of buyin' yer own." A large, gloved hand appeared just above his shoulder, a blue train ticket hanging between the extended index and middle finger. Sean Cassidy sighed and sheepishly accepted it upon hearing his nickname, long used by no one but Wolverine.  
  
"How long have ye known, Logan?" Cassidy turned, smiling, a bit embarrassed.  
  
"Surprisingly, not until I noticed you standing out here. You know, you're really hard to miss with that mop of orange hair on yer head." Logan's eyebrow arched slightly, but he commended his teammate for eluding his innate senses for so long.  
  
"Do I really stand out that much?" he asked, self-consciously running a hand through his brightly colored locks. Sean supposed that there weren't too many people around with such a striking hair color, but decided it didn't matter for the moment, so he moved on. "Wait- ye mean ye're not going to send me on me way home?"  
  
"Could I stop you from just following me anyway?" Logan stared blankly at him for a moment, watching Sean smile and shake his head in response. A loud cranking sound emitted from the train as the conductors began shutting all of the doors on the sleek, white locomotive. Logan grabbed the Irishman by the arm and dragged him toward one of the boarding gates. Sean took the opportunity to look at his ticket.  
  
"Chicago? Why so far?"  
  
"I don't know, but that's where they went, so we're goin' too."  
  
Sean figured that this logic was sound, so he pushed aside his apprehension of the bullet trains and decided that their mission was more important. Still, he gulped, and prepared himself for the long ride.  
  
"Do we have to be goin' by train, Logan?" he asked, still being pulled along.  
  
"Because they took the train. We'll be arriving at the same station they did, and so they'll be easier to find if their scent hasn't disappeared. Oh, by the by, ya don't mind if we have to switch trains a few times on the way, right?"  
  
"What?" Sean blurted, appalled.  
  
"Heh-heh," Logan chuckled cruelly, causing his companion to huff. Sean calmed down a bit and pulled his arm loose of Logan's grip. He hurried to keep up with the smaller man, having to occasionally push past some stragglers who were just coming off of the train they sought to board.  
  
"I'm sorry, Logan, but I'm still kind of amazed ye're not sendin' me back." Sean called ahead, unsure of Logan's reasoning.  
  
"Get over it, pal, we've got a clever enemy who's far ahead of us. It may take a while to track them down, and that's just if they're even still together. They may have split up somewhere along the way, anticipating our pursuit." Logan snatched Sean's ticket and handed it to the waiting conductor. They entered the doorway and went to their seats in the third passenger car just as the engines were warmed enough.  
  
"'Sides," Logan continued, grinning widely over his shoulder, "I like the company I've been stuck with, Irish."  
  
Sean nearly stumbled over his own feet in the middle of the aisle when he heard Logan's words. Logan had always seemed indifferent toward him, and this was about the friendliest thing he had heard from him in quite some time. He smiled, glad he had decided to come along, and even glad Logan had found him out. He decided to make the best of this while it lasted. They found their seats and sat down next to each other.  
  
"Glad ye feel that way, Logan." Sean continued to smile amicably. Logan smirked back and gave a small grunt in response. He then tipped his hat over his eyes and relaxed, awaiting their departure. It was then that Sean remembered that neither of them had slept since before the X-Men had left the mansion in search of the Misfits. Nonetheless, Sean was too anxious to sleep. He wished he had gone with them, so that he could see their faces for himself and determine whether one of them was the girl he had once known. Xavier, however, had asked him to stay behind. He said he wanted Sean to look after the children, but Sean also knew that it was for his own protection.  
  
The professor knew that if Sean had been there, his emotions concerning his past could have cost him his life. Sean thought about his conversation with the older man just the previous night. The professor had warned him that the girl was not the same as she had once been. Sean could accept that, given what she had been through. However, in what ways she had changed, no one could be certain. What Sean feared most was whether or not she even remembered who he was. Not knowing how much responsibility she had placed on him for past events.  
  
As the train churned forward, Logan began to snore softly from the seat next to him. Sean glanced over at him, wondering how the man could sleep so soundly no matter where he was. They weren't exactly traveling first class. Then he noticed something odd. Logan's ears seemed very alert. They were pricked upward, like a wild predator's, and considering what Logan's X-Gene had done for him, it seemed almost fitting.  
  
"What's the matter, Logan? Don't ye trust me?" Sean asked softly, fidgeting with his hands.  
  
Having been discovered, Logan sat still for a moment, sighed, then sat up, removing his hat. He stretched, yawned, and looked over at Cassidy, who stared back, solemnly.  
  
"I trust you alright, Irish. I was just wondering what you were thinkin'. Yer breathin's pretty stiff; has been for a while," Logan leaned over a bit so that the other passengers could not hear what he had to say, "hey, listen," he said quietly, almost in a feral growl; Sean knew he didn't mean to sound so irritated- it was just how his voice normally sounded, "I heard a little bit about what you and the Prof were talkin' about; these ears o' mine, ya know. You alright?"  
  
Sean was a bit shocked to discover that Logan's hearing was so good that he could hear right through the walls of the mansion's elevator, which were each several inches thick, even without their steel frame, but was at a loss as to what to say to him. He didn't know how much Logan had already heard,  
  
"Eh," Cassidy thought for a moment, still not even sure he wanted anyone to know. He looked sidelong at Logan again, and despite the man's genuinely concerned expression, he said, "I'm sorry Logan, but this is something I've got to take care of meself. I hope ye'll understand." He sighed, and hung his head, feeling rather terrible for having to conceal something so important from his friends. Logan relaxed, completely at ease with Cassidy's answer, and responded in an almost sympathetic tone.  
  
"'Course I understand, Irish. You're talkin' to the ol' Canucklehead who does everything for 'imself. If you've got personal business with one o' these gals, you gotta take care of it. If ya do ever wanna talk to somebody about it though, I'm right here. Got that?"  
  
"Ye have me thanks, Logan," Sean sighed, relieved that Logan knew how much it meant to him to keep this to himself, "and one day, I might just take ye up on ye're offer. But for now, just let me think a while on it. There are many things I still have to sort out for meself before I confront her. Before two days ago, I never would have thought I'd get this chance to meet the lass again, ye know? I had always hoped, but," Sean was interrupted by the appearance of Logan's hand before him, motioning for silence.  
  
"Ya don't have to explain everything, Irish, I told ya I completely understand. You just concentrate on figurin' things out right now, and don't worry about apologizing anymore. I don't want yer thanks either. All ya have to do is know I'm here." Logan was staring at him sternly, but not angrily.  
  
"R-right," Sean stammered contritely. He began thinking then of all the things he wanted to say. He couldn't think of anything. All that was running through his mind was that he had not seen her in over five years. Sean was not only uncertain that she would remember him, but he now dreaded that he would not be able to recognize her either. With this thought, his chest tightened slowly, and he became more and more nervous with every passing moment.  
  
When Logan looked over again to make sure he was all right, Sean was not moving at all. His hands gripped the armrests of the seat tightly, his breathing had grown quieter, and he looked terrified. His eyes dilated, he stared off into space. Logan decided Cassidy had had enough time to think.  
  
"Okay, red, okay. I think ya need to calm down and come back to the land of the living. Ya look like ever-lovin' rigor mortis just hit ya, fer Pete's sake!" Logan grabbed Sean's shoulder and shook him vigorously, bringing him out of his petrified state. Sean shivered for a moment, still quite unsettled by everything he had been pondering. He nodded his thanks to Logan, who turned his torso to face him, grasping both of his shoulders as Sean began to breathe more normally again.  
  
"Now, ya still don't have to tell me anything if ya don't want to, but you ain't gonna go doin' that on me again, that's fer sure! Y'all right, bub?"  
  
"Yes, Logan," Sean shrank a bit into his seat, his expression turning tepid, "I'm just worried about what'll be happenin' in the next few hours. I'm not sure if I'll be likin' the outcome, either. I'll be fine now," he felt the tightening in his chest dissipate then, and did try to calm down as Logan had suggested. He looked over at him again, "Logan, can I ask ye a question?"  
  
"Sure, Irish, ask me anything." Logan leaned back in his seat once more, watching Sean out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure he was truly going to relax.  
  
"Those girls-the Misfits- what did they look like?" Logan was a bit surprised by the inquiry. He had thought that by telling him to calm down, he was telling him to stop thinking about the subject altogether, but apparently Cassidy hadn't gotten the hint. Still, he decided to humor him.  
  
"Well," he said, trying to remember the information his friend sought, "mind you, they ran off not too long after we arrived, so I don't think any of us got a real good look at 'em. I can tell ya the basics, though."  
  
"That's fine. Just let me hear it. I have to know." Sean said bleakly, continuing to gaze dolefully ahead at nothing in particular.  
  
"Alrighty then," Logan sighed, "here goes. Both of 'em were real young. Couldn't a' been any older than twenty or so..."  
  
"Eighteen," Sean interrupted, still in a daze, "that's how old she'll be, right about now."  
  
"Er, yeah, you might be right," Sean's interruption had broken Logan's chain of thought, but he quickly found it again, "both of 'em were real lookers too. Pretty faces an' everything, but they looked real wild. Not feral like me, but more like," Logan thought of something to compare them to, but it proved difficult, not having seen them for more than maybe a minute, "like Ororo, I s'pose, more exotic."  
  
"She was a pretty lass, she was." Sean cracked a smile, interrupting Logan again, still not recovered from his slump. Logan became truly disturbed by Sean's state once again, but continued nonetheless.  
  
"The one was a bit taller than the other, and had longer, darker hair. She was from somewhere down south, or maybe Asian. Scratch that, she didn't really look Asian, but her skin was darker," Sean frowned, and Logan realized this wasn't the one he wanted to hear about. He tried to remember the other Misfit, the one who had used her powers. She had been the one controlling the beasts the X-Men faced, and so the one they had been forced to be more cautious of, but still Logan did not remember much more about her.  
  
"What's wrong?" Sean finally looked up, having slouched in his seat almost as far as he was able, his shoulders now just above the armrests, and his elbows outstretched on them. He realized that his elbow was pressing into Logan's ribs, so he wearily sat part of the way back up, folding his hands over his chest, intertwining his fingers.  
  
"Nothin', I'm jes' thinkin'. You probably wanna hear more about the other gal, don't ya? I remember a little better now. Yeah, she was my height, but like her partner, she looked real agile. She used her powers to summon some kinda' monster with little pellets, or whatever it was she kept in a pouch in her belt. Her partner did all the talkin' once we arrived, but this one was the only one using her powers, as far as we know. She was..."  
  
"Very pretty lass, ash blonde hair, green eyes, or were they hazel?" Sean interrupted again, "I'm almost positive it was hazel. And I bet she looked real detached too."  
  
"Yup," Logan sighed, wondering what Sean would do now, "that one looked real cold, almost spiteful. That's her." Logan heard Sean chuckle quietly. He was grinning now, but his eyes were still very impassive. Logan wondered if his friend might be going crazy right then.  
  
"She's always been that way. Never smiled unless she had a real reason to. Sometimes she just looked downright mean." Sean's eyes lost their glaze, and he sat up.  
  
Logan blinked.  
  
"'Real looker', eh? She's grown up well. Aside from the thievin', that is." Sean's smile disappeared, but he looked at Logan then, completely composed. He continued to say, "thank ye, Logan. Now I know it's her. I still don't know what I'm going to say, but I feel better now."  
  
"I sure hope so, Irish." Logan stopped staring at him, feeling he could stop worrying finally. It really looked like Sean Cassidy, or Banshee, was going to be all right. 


	4. Confrontation 1

Acolytes, Brotherhood, X-Men all belong to Marvel comics. This story is mine. Kiley and Cheryl belong to themselves; that's us. In other words, the Misfits. This disclaimer junk can get really old really fast, you know? Don't wanna get sued though. That's life.  
  
The Misfits ran far, leaving the state of New York and settling in Chicago on the second day of their promise. Thinking they would never hear from the X-Men or Magneto again, they foolishly let their guard down.  
  
While Cheryl was in their apartment tidying that evening, Kiley decided to go grocery shopping. Not long after she left, she was walking back home with a bag full of fruit, and stopped to buy an ice cream cone from a small delicatessen. As she paid and waited for the boy to give her cone to her, she noticed a man walking by the store. He was short, but extremely well built, and awfully familiar. He wore blue jeans with a blue denim jacket over a white shirt, and under a Stetson, his blue-black hair came down in front of his ears in shaggy sideburns, but she could not see very well because of the distance between them, and also because of the fur jacket collar and black wool hat that hid most of his face. She did notice a large, lit cigar hanging from his lips. He leaned against the window of the deli with his back to her, putting one hand in a pocket and taking a drag from his cigar with the other.  
  
The clerk handed her a double scoop of cookie-dough, and she left. As she walked past, she tried to get a better look at the man by stealing a sideward glance, but he looked down at a watch on his right arm. The cigar smoke wisped above his head like a dense cloud, dissipating as it rose into the wind. She walked on. Shortly after she had passed, he followed, his heavy boots making a slow clump, clump, as he went, not trying to lighten the conspicuous noise at all. A block or so down the road, Kiley stopped, and so did the bootfalls. She turned, and he was there, mere feet behind. Suddenly, he lifted his head, giving her a full view of his face, and smirked.  
  
"Hello, darlin'."  
  
"You!" she gasped, nearly dropping her ice cream, "you're that thing with the claws!"  
  
"Shh, shh!" 'You want the whole city to know we're both mutants? Stay calm; I'm here on my own. What are you doing in Chicago?" He fell into step beside her and walked with her on down the street, urging her to move on, despite her irritation.  
  
"It was...time for a change of scenery." She looked at him sidelong, realizing that he was just a bit taller than she was, but still short for a man of his build.  
  
"New heist?" he grinned, removing the cigar from between his teeth and scratching his forehead with his middle finger.  
  
"Not exactly. What are you doing here, anyway?" she looked straight at him, annoyed.  
  
"To look after you and your friend. Certain sources say you had a little visit two nights ago after you left us at the bank. That's why you ran here, right?" he put the cigar back between his teeth and looked over at her.  
  
"That's none of your business." She said indignantly.  
  
"Right." He chuckled. "The name's Logan, by the way." He extended his hand across his chest. Kiley shook with the hand being weighted down by the groceries. Logan shook it and at the same time grabbed the bag.  
  
"What are you doing?" Kiley stopped and turned, trying to get it back, but he swung it over his shoulder, carrying it with two fingers.  
  
"At least let me carry it for you, I am supposed to guard you."  
  
"No one asked you to do that. Give it back!" she reached but he lifted his arm above his head. She brooded, but stopped trying. "You are not following me home."  
  
"On the contrary, gorgeous," he leaned in close to her face, grinning even wider, "I'm supposed to follow you everywhere."  
  
Kiley blinked and quickly shoved him away, and he backed off a few steps in front of her, holding up his hands innocently, still chuckling.  
  
He stopped smiling and halted.  
  
"So what exactly did Magneto say to you?" Kiley halted as well. She looked up at him. Logan noticed something in her eyes demanding an explanation. He obliged.  
  
"Well, we know Quicksilver was there, and where there's Pietro, there's Magneto. My 'source' is a telepath." He explained. Kiley looked down and thought a moment.  
  
"Yes, Magneto and Pietro were there. Why should you care what they said to us?" she walked on again.  
  
"Because he's looking for you." Logan caught up, "Last we heard of Pietro, he was looking for you in Green Bay. He's getting closer, and worse than that, Magneto is already here in Illinois, not wearing his helmet, so his mind won't be hindered. You're in great danger here."  
  
"We made a promise, and I have no intention of ingratiating myself with the enemies of Magneto," she said coldly, "now go!"  
  
"I'm sorry, but I feel it's my duty to look after you with such an evil sonuvabitch on your tail."  
  
"Evil is in the eye of the beholder..." Kiley replied more quietly, moving her gaze to the ground. Logan's eyebrow arched, and he gave her an odd look.  
  
"I'm beginning to think the professor made a mistake when he said you ran out of fright." Logan adjusted his hat forward.  
  
"Your 'source', right? If he's a telepath, he should have been able to read our intentions quite clearly. Like I said; we made a promise to him, and enemies of Magneto are no friends of mine." She said bluntly once again, taking Logan aback a second time.  
  
"Yeah, I got that part well enough... Are you sure you know what you're getting yourselves into, though? Whether you agree with his ideals or not, you still have to admit he's a pretty dangerous guy. And he's not exactly all there, if you know what I'm sayin', darlin'." Logan tapped his temple with the hand holding the cigar, making his point.  
  
"I have heard that Magneto led a tragic life and that at times he can become as a madman because of it, but that does not concern me. It does not concern you either. Now you can leave the bag with me, because you're not coming in." she stepped in front of a high staircase leading to an apartment building and turned again.  
  
"Geez, you sound like you're in love with him or somethin'." Logan sighed and handed her the bag.  
  
"So what if I am?" Kiley barked at him, grabbing her groceries and climbing the stairs in a huff. The shock of that statement left Logan gawking there a moment, but soon he turned and chuckled, walking away to find a perch to watch them from a distance. 


	5. Concerning the Past

X-Men and Brotherhood/Acolytes/Magneto belong to Marvel Comics Inc. and a bunch of other companies who endorse their merchandise. I am by no means affiliated with aforementioned parties, aside from spending ridiculous amounts of money on their publications from time to time. I am not making any profit from this story.

I seem to have trouble getting to accept normal paragraphs. I've never been able to get it to use the indented paragraph correctly, so I decided to separate them all with a space. This seems to work better anyway, so until I find a way to remedy my problem, this will be the way. Sorry.

Kiley and Cheryl are original characters and just happen to be my best friend and myself, so don't use them, particularly when involving exchange of capital, unless you intend to reward us our due royalties.

Banshee's brogue. Ugh. So many spell-check issues. Now that Sean actually has some substantial lines, this is getting frustrating. By the way; I'm completely aware that Sean's brogue in this story tends to lean more toward Scottish than Irish. This stems from my own Scot-Irish heritage, not often having to distinguish between the two accents since I understand and am commonly subjected to both, whether within my family or not. I could explain this by having Sean attend University in Scotland for several years before joining the Secret Service, but instead, I call it artistic license and leave it at that. BWAHAHAHA! a-herm Right.

"Concerning the Past"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The Misfit stomped up the tall staircase leading to her and her partner's temporary residence feeling more than a little harassed. Somehow, that insufferable brute had caught up with them, and no doubt the rest were soon to follow; she didn't believe for a second that he had come alone. Still, she couldn't be sure how many of the "X-Men" there actually were, much less how many of them had come with him. She suddenly became concerned that they might not be able to escape the next time they met a group of them.

"Persistent buggers," she muttered.

Although the two women had never heard of the X-Men before two nights ago, other than what they read in the papers, the old man in the wheelchair seemed to know a lot about the two of them. If Logan was telling the truth, then that man was a telepath, and that caused serious problems for them if they allowed the X-Men to catch up to them. They would have to keep moving from town to town until the pursuit ended, and Kiley did not like that idea at all. It was very unsettling to think that this was the first time either woman had ever been caught unprepared. Deciding she didn't want to think on the matter anymore for the time being, she tightened her grip on the bag of fruit she was holding to her chest now.

Then she remembered something else Logan had said. "'Last we heard of Pietro, he was looking for you in Green Bay." So, Magneto was cheating after all. Still, it depended on which of the two found them first. Magneto was probably counting on that, being the more intelligent of the two by far. This was, of course, no insult to Pietro; Magneto was reputably one of the most intelligent men in the world. He was, however, running out of time. The second day of their covenant was quickly coming to an end, and Magneto lacked the speed he would most likely need to find them before midnight the next night. His best option would to no doubt use Pietro's, or Quicksilver's, speed to find the girls and relay their location to Magneto without being noticed. Kiley suddenly became very weary of her surroundings.

Lost in thought, she nearly missed the floor the apartment was on, and doubled back a few steps to enter the landing. She opened the first door she came to, ambling inside and calling out to her friend to announce her return.

Cheryl had been in the kitchen most of the day, reading a book. That was where Kiley had found her once again, and she set the fruit on the table. Kiley grabbed an apple, took it to the sink to wash, and sat in a chair across from her.

"We've got trouble," she said, bringing Cheryl out of her book. Cheryl stared at her hard for a moment, and then put the book down, waiting for an explanation. Kiley started with the strange encounter that happened upon her that evening…

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Logan had found the perfect spot to watch the building from, and sat patiently as he waited for the slightest sign of activity. He watched over the small apartment from the roof of a much taller building nearby. From his perch, Logan could see the windows of both walls of the apartment he saw the two women in, the front door to the building, and the entire ceiling, just in case.

When he was sure both Misfits were too distracted to notice his vigilant figure on top of the building across the street, he relaxed somewhat and rose to sit comfortably on the corner of the roof. He reached inside his denim jacket and retrieved the cigars he had bought earlier that day. He grabbed one and brought it to his lips. Patting down his jacket once more, he searched for a match. He was out. When he left the manor, he hadn't brought the lighter Jubilee had given him. He hadn't brought anything, truthfully; he hadn't even thought to. He snatched for the cigar in his mouth with an irritated snarl and stuffed it back into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He considered alerting Banshee to the situation, but figured he'd give his friend a few extra hours of sleep. The train ride had flustered the Irishman much more than Logan would have liked. Sean was never known for his love of locomotives, but it had never been this bad before. However, Cassidy had thought about many other things to agitate his nerves on the way. Whatever the explanation, he had gone straight to sleep when they checked into a hotel near the station, leaving Logan to do the scouting work for the day. Logan was fine with that. The more rested the Banshee was, the less Logan would have to be worried for his safety.

It was now dusk. The streetlamps below flickered on, and Logan could see that the entire town began switching on lights inside the buildings around him. Offices were beginning to close, cars were being started for the ride home, and the highways glittered with the distant headlights. At the ground level of the building he was perched on, a nightclub was opening, and he could smell pizza, Cajun cooking, and Chinese being prepared at various restaurants around the city for the dinnertime rush. Taking in the sights, sounds, and smells around him, he almost missed the Misfits going out for a nighttime stroll… on the roof.

That was it. It was time to wake up Cassidy. Logan lifted his right arm to his face and spoke into the communication device in his wristwatch; "wake up, Banshee! They're on the move. I'm going to keep an eye on them while you get your Irish butt over here."

"Sorry, Wolverine, I dozed off a bit longer than expected," came the response, "I'll be with ye in a jiff."

Logan turned the device off. He would not accept being noticed while he was tailing the two women because some damn fool wanted to chat; the young Bobby Drake had once given him cause for this reasoning. He deftly leapt from the roof onto the next to get a clearer view of the Misfits' activities. For the moment, they were stagnant. They seemed to be having an anxious conversation. He chuckled a bit; he could hear his name being spoken, the sound of Kiley's voice dripping with acid.

When he was on the roof of the smaller building closest the apartment complex, he once again leapt up from roof to roof, this time grabbing the ledge just underneath the Misfits while they were distracted. The conversation paused. Logan cursed; his foot had hit the brick wall he was clinging to. Luckily, rather than investigate, the Misfits decided they had hung around for long enough and began to move. They came to the ledge and jumped off, landing side by side at the ground beneath him.

They then began to run. Logan grinned, thrilled at the prospect of a hunt, and extended the half-dozen claws from between his knuckles into the brick wall and slid down, the blades slowing his descent. When he was halfway down, he once again retracted his claws, turning and running the rest of the way down the wall. A few feet from the ground, he propelled himself forward with his legs, landing in a crouch, and springing back into a run, still laughing quietly to himself. They had run in the direction of the hotel that, at that very moment, Sean Cassidy was exiting.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Standing in front of the automatic doors of the hotel he was staying at, Sean tugged at the collar of the black turtleneck sweater he had just put on when Logan gave him the order to get moving. It was the middle of winter, but he still felt unusually warm, the result of his intense unease. He checked himself-his jeans, the sweater, and the long coat he wore were all in good condition. He didn't want to look as if he had climbed out of bed just moments before, which was indeed what he had done. That would likely attract undue attention to himself, which he certainly did not need at the moment.

Realizing the doors were not shutting because of his presence, he began to walk in the direction Logan's signal had come from. His thoughts wondered from one subject to the next, tending to veer toward the inevitable meeting with the Misfits. Whenever that happened, Sean tried to think of something else. He had finally decided he would wait for the encounter to think of what to say, seeing how years of doing the same had gotten him nowhere.

A commotion arose just up ahead of him. The crowd of people being jostled about was in his path to Logan's location, so he moved on ahead. However, seconds later, two young women broke through the crowd at full speed, abandoning all pretense of femininity in their frantic getaway. Pushing other pedestrians aside, they hurled themselves forward. In the second it took them to pass him, Sean turned his head toward the direction of one, and caught a glimpse of her face in the dim evening light. Quickly, he turned about completely, stricken dumb with astonishment. It was them! And judging by the pace at which they were racing, they already knew they were being followed, so…

"Wait!" he called, breaking into a sprint just as Logan came behind him, similarly vexed. "Logan! What happened? How'd they find ye?" Sean called out, falling a bit behind to run next to his friend.

"I ain't sure," Logan breathed, a look of apprehension haunting his features, "They stopped for two seconds to talk, then all of a sudden, they broke off runnin'. I'm not even sure they spotted me at all, Irish."

"Is that all?" Sean's brow creased, as he was beginning to worry.

"Well, yer gal brought out one o' those beasts she used back at the bank, talked to it for a sec, then the both of them drained of all color. They looked scared, Cass'. I couldn't begin to tell you what of."

"Uh… I think I can be givin' ye a hint, old chum," Sean said, looking skyward. Logan's gaze followed, and was caught there by the sight above them. It was a human figure, floating in the sky. Around it, the air seemed to crackle with pure electricity. Downward it soared, seemingly unaffected by the shrieks of terror that erupted from the multitudes below.

Magneto.

Sean violently yanked Logan's arm his way just before Logan would have smacked into a mail bin. Logan stumbled a bit, but managed to keep his footing, taking the lead again, and motioning for Sean to follow him, tracking their prey by scent. They had turned into another street that was less conspicuous just as Magneto came low enough to spot.

Logan turned, shoving Sean forward into the road to keep going. Logan lagged behind a few steps to watch as the Mutant Master of Magnetism dove headlong towards them, the sheer power that was required for him to take flight bending streetlamps, cars, and even the steel frame of a skyscraper in his direction. Magneto was angry, and now the entire city of Chicago was the object of his wrath.

Logan had to duck quickly as Magneto swooped down over his head, bringing a trash bin behind. The metal receptacle slammed into Logan's spine, the force driving him fully to the ground. He looked up again to see Sean gain on the women, leap forward, and roll with them to the ground just before Magneto caught up himself. Unable to stop immediately at such a high speed, he allowed himself to fly upward for a distance before turning and leering down at them.

Unhurt because of his adamantium-laced skeleton, but dazed, Logan began to rise, pausing when Magneto stopped moving as well. He saw Sean rise and help each Misfit up.

"Are ye all right?" the Irishman asked them, looking up at Magneto, expecting them to take off again.

"What are you-" Kiley began, bewildered. She looked up at the man who had "rescued" them, recognizing him instantly. She stared at him for a long moment before she realized where she had seen this face before. Sean stared back. He didn't like the expression he was given when a look of complete acknowledgment crossed her features. He winced slightly, but stood fully upright, continuing to watch her intently.

"Cassidy!" she gawked, and this surprise was not welcome at all.

"Kiley…" he sighed, hoping he would figure out something to say before it was too late; before Magneto decided to take what he had come for. For now, Sean noticed, he continued to float motionlessly in the air above them, watching. Laughing?

"Who is this person? What's going on?" Cheryl panted from beside the two. Both Misfits had been rather flustered from the jolt the man had given them, and neither was feeling anything less than pain, both in their legs and feet, and in their chests, hearts pounding from the assault.

Logan began to move forward, anxious of the figure above them as well. He figured that now was the time to find out what Sean had been so afraid of talking about all this time. It wasn't necessarily being nosey; Cheryl and Magneto were apparently about to hear about it as well.

"Let's hear it, bub. What's this all about?"

"This has nothing to do with you, Logan!" Kiley called out, not quite sure what she should be feeling right now. Between being found by Magneto and finding Cassidy here, of all places, her psyche was being wracked by several emotions all at once.

"No! Dinnae pay any attention tae them, Kiley," Sean suddenly shouted, deciding to take control while she was still in shock, "You n' I have a lot o' talkin' tae do, lass, and they dinnae matter at this point. It's been years, and it won't matter a bit if they hear what either of us has tae say. I'm the only one left, for Christ's sake, Kiley!"

Kiley's eyes flickered between the man standing before her and the others around her. He was right. After such a long time, it didn't matter who heard anymore. For years, she had tried to forget her past, and now it was standing right in front of her, staring down at her with a wild look. She began to shrink away in an overwhelmed state, first turning her head, then sinking into a sitting position at Sean's feet. Sean calmed a bit before following, kneeling beside her and looking her in the eye once again.

"Tell me what's going on, Kiley!" Cheryl called out to her, watching her friend, seemingly helpless for the first time since they had met.

"Yeah, tell us all." Logan prodded, walking closer, now certain Magneto was going to stay where he was for the time being.

"Alright," Sean sighed, looking up at Logan for a moment. Kiley's gaze snapped back at him.

"I thought they didn't matter," her eyes narrowed. Sean began to feel nervous again, but moved on nonetheless.

"I said it so we could speak despite their presence. Even so, I have tae come tae terms with what happened, and sayin' it out loud might help me do just that. Who cares if they hear?" Sean stood, facing the others. "What I've tae say is very personal. I'd appreciate it if it's kept between us, an' I think Kiley would as well. Fifteen years ago, I was still livin' at home with me parents. I come from a very wealthy Irish family from the Dublin area, if Kiley didnae tell ye that, lass," he said to Cheryl, "About that time, me parents adopted a little girl, very much younger than I. That lass was very special tae all o' us…"

Kiley stared indifferently forward while he spoke. Logan stood with an eyebrow arched, beginning to piece together what may have happened, and Cheryl listened intently, neither girl sharing the complete truth about their pasts with each other, empathetic to the kind of pain each had endured. However, her good friend had mentioned this man before.

"She came tae fit perfectly within the family structure," Sean continued, "I never had any younger siblings, and me parents wanted another child badly, although it was physically impossible for me agin' mother, already in her forties, and not in the best o' health, but that's something different entirely. We all loved her dearly, and she seemed tae love us as well. However, that seemed tae have been forgotten along the way…

"Years later, I discovered that I was different from most. I discovered that I had a mutant gene in me. I fled our home at Cassidy Keep, hidin' meself from me parents, and joinin' the Secret Service straight out o' University. I came back tae visit only occasionally. Every Christmas, I'd come home for the family dinner. Maybe once more during the year. That was all. I ne'er told me parents about me gifts because I knew how they would react. I did tell me adopted sister though. I held her in me arms one night and took her for a ride when I discovered I could fly as well. I could never know that little girl had the same genetic make-up."

Kiley's head rose slightly, and she turned towards Sean, listening to him tell the story.

"One day after work, about five years ago, I received a call from me folks. They were ravin' on about the little mutant lass in their house. Me father boasted proudly o' how he had run her off into the night with a huntin' rifle. 'Said she'd been using some strange power tae conjure up monsters in the fields. I hung up the phone because I couldnae think of anything tae say tae them. I was terrified. Terrified somethin' may have happened tae her, terrified she had died. What frightened me most was the thought that, had I not been a mutant myself, I might've reacted the same way. I headed back home. I didn't speak tae me parents, though they were there, askin' me questions. They disgusted me, turning on her suddenly like that. I just wanted tae find her. She wisnae hidin' in the house or on the grounds, so I searched the entire island for her, but me sister was gone. Vanished. Next I hear o' her, it's five years later-two days ago-and she's theivin'," Sean turned back to Kiley, the same wild look in his eyes from before, "our parents are dead. They'll probably never know what they did tae ye. At first I wouldn't believe it, but here ye are, the very same woman Xavier described tae me. I know what they did. They cannae be forgiven, but I'm askin' ye tae forgive me for me for failing ye- maybe I didnae look hard enough. I didnae even think you might leave the country tae escape our-"

"What is this 'our'?" Kiley swiftly rose, a brash change to her normally detached attitude, "Even if they were still living, they never were and never will be 'our' parents!" she sprung at him, grasping at his throat, surprising even Magneto, and began to scream viciously at Sean, "YOUR parents flung me out into the night, telling all their neighbors-all the city even!- about the mutant girl living in their home. They told one family I had tried to kill them in their sleep! The wolves of Dublin closed in around me, licking their chops at a fresh 'mutie' for the slaughter. Life outside that sheltered home taught me how to scratch a living! What did you expect me to become, some helpless debutante, woefully searching for someone to save her?" Her grip tightened, and Sean gasped for air, fighting to break free, slowly sinking toward the ground. "I rid myself of that family as quickly as possible. I rid myself of you! The brother that never cared. Don't tell me you searched high and low for me; if you truly had, you would have found me being stoned in the streets in broad daylight! You wanna see the scar from one particularly nasty little bloke in Drogheda? It's right here!"

Kiley removed one hand from Sean's throat just long enough to point to what was once a deep gash, stretching from just below her ear to underneath her chin, about two inches in length. Sean coughed weakly, his eyes red from the struggle. Despite the glaze of water over them, Sean could clearly see the scar. His lungs violently contracted with another cough, and he looked at her face once again, unable to hear Logan shouting as he tried to pull her off. He considered using his shrieking power, but even if he had the ability to use his vocals at that particular moment, he wasn't sure he had it in him to hurt her; the girl he remembered.

"Of course I left that country. I didn't look back once. I left behind the name of Cassidy; I even trained myself to speak without the regional accent! I wanted nothing to ever remind me of you and YOUR parents!" Logan finally managed to lift her off of Cassidy when she lightened her grip. Finished with her ranting, she allowed him to place her back on the ground, him standing between her and the recovering Irishman. Sean stood, staggering to keep his balance.

"I…had no idea," he gasped, his vision still blurry and his lungs still throbbing with pain.

"Damn right you hadn't," she snorted, turning her back on him and facing Magneto, crossing her arms and planting her feet firmly on the ground. "Well, Magneto, it seems you've found us. We'll keep our word; give us your order, and we will fulfill it gladly," she gave a small bow, but whether it was in earnest, none could tell. Cheryl came to stand next to her friend, awaiting Magneto's word. For a moment, he merely hovered. Then, he began to slowly descend. Magneto scanned the area for a moment.

Suddenly, he turned toward a line of parked cars, stretching his arms out wide. The cars, along with a hodge-podge of metal debris surrounding them, lifted into the air, willed by the movements of Magneto's arms. Slowly, he drew his arms inward, shifting the constitution of the metal itself. Balling his hands into fists, the cars completely compacted into solid blocks. He converged them all, hollowing it to create a giant vessel. Magneto lowered his arms and the craft touched the ground. An entrance irised open.

Aside from seeing him levitate himself, neither woman had seen Magneto utilize his powers. Both merely stood in awe as each vehicle was reduced to simple raw material within seconds. The plastic bits and pieces, tires, papers, and other non-metallic knick-knacks merely being dropped to the asphalt beneath. They looked back at Magneto, who nodded toward his creation. They looked at each other quizzically, but approached it as they were silently commanded. Sean watched in horror, and began to shake feverishly as he watched them go. He gnashed his teeth, growing even angrier as Magneto directed a smug sneer at him.

"I won't allow it!" he bellowed, lunging forward to grab both girls' arms, turning and running. Logan was nearly trampled in Sean's wake; he cursed and turned to follow. Cheryl and Kiley barely realized what was happening when Sean shrieked and took flight, barraging their eardrums with the eerie wail. They cringed and tried to cover their ears, but were already at a considerable height. They didn't dare fight their captor's grip.

Suddenly, they realized they didn't have to; Magneto had pursued them closely, and continued to gain. Held in suspension over his open palm was a tiny metal sphere. He hurled it forward, striking Sean in the back. The Misfits looked up, realizing they weren't being held aloft any longer! Sean was falling as well, unable to muster enough strength to keep even himself in the air. Magneto retrieved the metal, extracting a very different kind of scream from the Irishman, just as ear splittingly piercing.

Magneto ignored the X-Man from that point, rushing to rescue his soon-to-be subordinates. He concentrated on any metals he could find on them to keep them from plummeting to their deaths. Belt buckles were the easiest to get a bead on, so he focused on those until he could reach them himself. Startled by the sudden jolt, flustered by the fall, but unharmed, they waited to touch the ground again.

The women were going to be safe. Logan realized this. But he had to make it in time to cover Cassidy's fall! He leapt forward, reaching out to catch his falling comrade. At the last second, Cassidy gathered his wits just enough to manage a strangled cry; just enough to keep him from liquidating on the pavement upon impact. Still, he landed with a sickening crack, and his cry fell short once more. Logan stumbled onto his own face two feet away, stopping himself from running Cassidy over and injuring him further.

From his place lying in the middle of a more open street, Cassidy looked down at his legs. One was twisted in a way that he thought anatomically impossible. There went the chance that he had been imagining the snap he heard. The pain shot through him like a chill, causing him to wince and twist. He and Logan stared at each other for a moment, feeling more or less helpless. With his adamantium-grafted skeleton, Logan wasn't much use against the Mutant Master of Magnetism, and Cassidy's final attempt at a rescue had just ended with not so much a bang as with a crunch. A painful, clearly audible crunch. Cassidy brought himself to look up to where the Misfits were being placed. Magneto's strange creation found its way to a spot nearby, just outside a coffee shop, waiting to be put to use.

Cheryl and Kiley touched the ground nearby, and merely watched coldly as Logan attempted to help his friend. Magneto, on the other hand, had decided he had had enough. It was time to take of his reward for these foolish games.


	6. Family

Marvel Comics Inc. owns all original X-Men characters. Marvel does not own Kiley and Cheryl, and neither do you, so don't use them. Ghost Recon isn't mine either. There. I said it. On with the story!

Good God, someone actually reviewed! OO Thank you so much, I'm glad you like it! Please continue to read, I can't give anything away, but I promise it will be an exciting adventure! Heh-heh…such fervor! ;; Incidentally, I'm working on several different parts of the story at a time, so it takes longer for me to complete the next chapters. Don't worry, this story isn't over until I say it is!

I'm usually not a fan of the Mary Sue "sob story" pitch, but I think that in the case of antisocial mutant criminals, it's pretty much unavoidable. -.-

So I'm getting them both over with quickly and moving on with the story. HUZZAH!

Classes starting again soon, also working during the week. Not a lot of time for writing, but I'm trying my best!

Also, the first five chapters are being revised for grammatical reasons and such.

Game Over! (but the beginning of something new…)

Also titled "Family"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Kiley cursed to herself. Before she realized what she was doing, she had begun running for her injured brother. She stopped when she felt the ground begin to shake. The Misfit looked back at her partner, who was now fighting to keep her balance. They both felt the same force rippling through the very air, disturbing their equilibrium. Considering that the metal objects around them were getting the brunt of the force, they realized what was happening.

Magneto tore through the broad street, ripping out piping and streetlamps in his wake. When he found that something was in his way, he simply used his extraordinary genetic gifts to rip it from his path, violently hurling it into the buildings lining the thoroughfare. Watching the expressions of absolute horror coming from the small group assembled in the vicinity of his destination pleased him, and had he not been so irritated, he might have been enjoying himself.

"Enough!" he roared, "I won't tolerate these evasions any longer! I will take whom I have come for, whether they have had second thoughts or not. If you will remember our covenant, ladies?" The Misfits nodded and hurried towards the strange metallic sphere once again. Cassidy reached for them and began to protest once again before collapsing to the ground in agony. The Misfits pitied him, but they did not look back.

"Take your companion and go, Wolverine," Magneto continued, "I am allowing the both of you to leave with your lives. Do not tempt my patience." Once again using his powers, he extracted scrap from a demolished vehicle nearby, forming it into a thin sheet. Using the iron in Cassidy's blood, he lifted him from the street, extending his leg. The metal sheet floated from the mutant terrorist's hand, finding it's way to the injured appendage. The Misfits cringed when they heard another crack and scream of pain from behind them as Magneto set the bone back into place and splinted it.

Paying the X-Men no more mind, he turned back to the Misfits. Taking the hand of each woman, he helped them step into the tall device, and with a wave of his hand, the opening disappeared and the wall was made solid. Lifting himself back into the air, he gestured to the device to follow, and it did.

Logan watched them go. He wasn't sure why he cared so much that Magneto had found two more mutants to bring under his wing. It possibly had something to do with the grief-stricken Banshee, helplessly propped against a mangled hot dog stand nearby, cringing in agony and anguish. Logan was careful not to get too close to too many people, but Cassidy was one of those people he had grown to like after years of antagonism through differences. He cursed and spat onto the ground.

"C'mon, Irish," he muttered, "we've gotta get you home." He walked to where Cassidy was leaning, turned, and collected him onto his back. He stood, paying careful attention to the broken leg, making sure not to disturb it too much. To his surprise, Cassidy didn't even wince. Magneto had done an excellent job with his makeshift splint.

"What is he now, a surgeon?" Logan mused.

"Yeah. Regular saint, that'n…"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"You never told me," Cheryl looked empathetically at her friend, who sat across from her, brooding. After a long silence, the younger Misfit had finally decided it was time for a talk.

"We agreed we never would," Kiley said, uncrossing her arms and eyeing the wall next to her, which was bleak. Being inside of Magneto's contraption was exactly like being inside a metal ball, for that is exactly what it was. The Misfits had had the good fortune to never be put into prison for their crimes, but both had the unnerving feeling that this was pretty close.

"I know," said Cheryl uneasily, "but now that I know, it's just… it sounds almost exactly like my history. It's awful." She hung her head, remembering her own adoptive parents, for both young thieves were orphans, thrown onto the street when their genetic secrets had been discovered.

"Tell me," Kiley said bluntly, interrupting her thoughts.

"What?"

"You know what happened to me. Tell me what happened to you."

"I…okay." Cheryl wanted to keep her story to herself, but she couldn't hold out, knowing Kiley was hurting because her own was out. It would only be fair, and they may even gain something from sharing their experiences. More than likely, they were stuck with each other for life, and neither would have had it any other way.

"Who were your parents?" Kiley re-crossed her arms, watching Cheryl search for words.

"Well, you know that I was adopted like you, but I didn't find a 'permanent' home until I was six. They were a middle-class couple. Uncle Earl and Aunt Dora had a ranch outside of Odessa with horses, cattle, and a few barn cats," Cheryl began, but Kiley interrupted her.

"'Uncle and Aunt?'"

"Yeah," Cheryl shrugged, "it was strange, but even though I couldn't remember anything about my real parents, I could never bring myself to call them 'mom and dad.' They were really nice people. But like I was saying," Kiley grinned mischievously, "Whenever one of the mares gave birth, they always let me name the foal. Uncle Earl taught me how to herd cattle, and he took me with him when he led them to pasture. I was allergic to cats, but I played with them a lot. I grew up working in the stables, so I was always around them. But the horses were my favorite. I had two of my own that I had named at birth. Shimmer was a mustang appaloosa and Fawn was a palomino," a tear began to form in her eye, and Kiley moved a bit closer to her friend, "but you probably want to hear more about…more recent events. Ten years ago, before I met you in Montana, my family found out about mutants. They considered my uncanny luck with healing dying animals. I even helped Uncle Earl take care of a welding burn once. It was completely gone two days after I touched it. They tossed me out for what they once considered a blessing." She began to cry, and Kiley was beginning to join her. Despite the different settings of their accounts, she was beginning to see that the accounts themselves were essentially the same. Cheryl buried her face in her hands, sobbing. It was the first time in years she had thought about these memories.

"For a while," she continued, "I just wandered around Odessa as a street-urchin. No one really knew me because I spent most of my time on the ranch. No one knew I was a mutant. My family hadn't told anyone. Except, they decided they were going to tie up some loose ends. They thought I was a freak of nature. Eliminating me would be an act of mercy; a service to the rest of mankind. They came after me. I was cornered in an alley, with Uncle Earl's shotgun shoved in my face, when the police intervened. They were arrested, but I ran away before the policemen could start asking questions. I drifted for several months before ending up on that train to Montana." Cheryl stopped talking. She didn't have much else to say. From that point on, Kiley knew the rest. She had been there through it all. They stayed partners, best friends, ever since.

Now, that best friend was next to her, trying to subdue her own tears.

"We've got more in common than we ever imagined," Kiley wiped her eyes, looking up at Cheryl. Another silence ensued.

"Kiley?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad we got to know…everything."

"…Me too."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

It seemed to the Misfits that they had been sitting in the device for nearly a full day before, without even realizing they had landed, the metal irised open again, revealing a lush garden of some estate, high in a mountainous area. Magneto stood there, waiting for them to exit. As the entryway opened fully, Magneto's hands were ceremoniously placed behind his back, and his head was held high. Once he could see them both inside, he smiled, and Cheryl heard Kiley inhale sharply. She jabbed her amorous friend in the side before taking Magneto's hand, which was now stretched out to her, offering help down from the tall craft.

As she stepped out, Cheryl suddenly smelled roses all around her. Sure enough, the garden was filled with them. Tall bushes climbed the sides of the stone walls, filled with red blossoms, each one of them perfect. The scene was made complete by the expanse of blue sky, lightly inhabited by fluffy, white clouds at the time. Cheryl never imagined Magneto to be much of a green thumb, but the entire garden was well kept, and it stretched for several acres behind the enormous house she had just then noticed. Mansion, she corrected herself, awed. It was light-colored brickwork with white trimming, just like the expensive homes she had seen in her own travels. She started when she noticed that Magneto was moving toward it, motioning for the two to follow.

Kiley walked beside her as they went, just as bedazzled as she. They tapped each other, pointing out particularly beautiful arrangements the entire way, making very little noise, as if they thought it might annoy their new boss to ogle at his home, if that was indeed what they were approaching. Instead, Magneto began to chuckle when he heard their excited whispering.

As they reached the cobblestone path leading to the house, something leapt out of the door on all fours. At first, the girls suspected it was a dog and brightened at the thought of having an animal around, but as the creature came closer, they discovered it was actually a man. He was short and thin, and his legs looked elongated, making it possible for him to leap about like a frog. His hair was long and black, and his eyes seemed almost empty, like a fish's. Magneto held up a hand for him to halt, and so he did at Magneto's feet, perching.

"You've returned with them then, master?" he said, cocking his head back to look up at the considerably taller man.

"Yes, I have, Toad. These are the Misfits, mutant thieves whom I have recruited. Their names are Cheryl and Kiley," he indicated each with an open palm, "Frauen, this is Mortimer Toynbee, better known as Toad. You would do well to avoid his company, for he is wicked and unclean."

"You shame me, master," whimpered Toad, but his brow furrowed, and he glared at the women, grinning and saying, "Pleasure to meet you, my darlings. Perhaps you would like me to give you a tour of our home?"

Before Toad could say anything else, or the women still behind him could respond, Magneto ordered Toad, "Go and find the others and bring them into the foyer. I will introduce everyone presently."

"Yes, master," Toad didn't dare hesitate even a moment when carrying out orders, "I shall fetch them at once."

The Misfits looked up at Magneto.

"You mustn't allow him to frighten you. He is mostly harmless, but as I said, he is wicked. I do not know what happens in the recesses of his mind, and therefore he cannot be trusted. He is uncouth and he is a coward, but he makes an excellent lackey. For now. I suspect one day he will decide that it is no longer in his best interest to remain here and he will betray us." Magneto paused, watching Toad scamper back in the doors.

"And he's a mutant like us, Magneto?" Kiley asked.

"Yes. Toad's gifts make him like his amphibious namesake. His leg muscles are strong and allow him to hop like so, and he can produce slime to spit at his enemies. Very unsanitary. And he smokes. I suspect you will want to keep yourselves away from that as well." An eyebrow rose on his forehead, as if the last part of his statement were a question.

"Right. Neither of us can be around the smell of cigarettes for very long before our stomachs start turning," Cheryl stepped forward, facing away from the house for a moment.

"And I, as well," Magneto nodded, walking again. He placed an arm over each girls' shoulder, leading them beside him. "You will like the other Acolytes, at least. You will be the youngest additions to my ranks, but you could possibly be two of the most vital. As I said when we first met, you won't have to take orders from anyone but me. My son Pietro usually acts as front man, but the two of you will most likely have separate tasks, much more delicate in nature from the rest of the Acolytes," he stopped to open the glass double doors for them, "I will need your thieving skills for espionage and collecting certain items from time to time."

"We have no problem with that, Magneto," Kiley passed through the doors, looking around the interior of the building, which was equally as amazing and ornate as the outside, "that's what we've been doing for the past ten years. We haven't had any screw-ups yet, and we won't under your command."

"You forget, my dear," Magneto began gravely, seeming to suddenly appear in front of her, and she nearly collided into him, "your little run-in with the X-Men on the night I first found you was dangerously close." He stared down at them both, and they looked up at him in turn, wondering whether or not they should be terrified of his looming figure at that moment. His features softened, however, once he had studied them. "Do not worry about that. It was merely a matter of time before Charles found you with Cerebro. Now that he has done it, I think you will only see more of them as time goes on. Here, you are protected with a magnetic shield that hides us from Cerebro's prying 'eyes.'"

"Kiley told me of this Charles, or what she heard from the X-Man, Logan, at least, but what is Cerebro?" Cheryl inquired, standing behind Kiley, whose path Magneto still blocked.

"What Wolverine probably did not tell you was that Charles Xavier was once a great friend of mine. Although we both had dreams for mutant freedom in society, we had very different ideas of how to go about obtaining it. Charles and I searched the world over for a place Mutantkind could call home, away from the humans that persecuted and exploited them. Sometime after that, we had something of a falling out. However, that was not before he and I devised of a mechanism that could track a mutant psyche and direct a telepath to its whereabouts."

"And that would be Cerebro?" Kiley interrupted.

"Yes," Magneto's brow creased, "we had it built so that it could amplify Charles' telepathic abilities significantly, and so we could find more mutants to rescue from the world and bring to our safe haven. When we went our separate ways, Charles kept the machine. That is what he used to find you at that bank. You need not worry about having tripped alarms, or anything of that sort. You are both far too talented. However, now that Charles knows each of your signatures using Cerebro, you will be all the more easily found in the future."

"Why hasn't he used this machine to find you, sir?" Cheryl asked him.

"I have my ways of evading its power," he said, tapping the helmet on his head, "I did help build it, you know. And you must both call me Magnus while we are at home and in town, Frauen. It is my name, after all."

"Oh?" they inquired.

"Erik Magnus Lehnsherr is my name," he gave a gallant bow, "but no one calls me Erik unless they are selling something." Both women stared at him awkwardly. "Or unless their name happens to be Charles Xavier. But he and I have not spoken in quite some time. Come." Magneto quickly turned and moved on, walking to the atrium of his magnificent home, once again waving them forward.

Passing through one last long hallway, they reached the most expansive room in the structure. The front doors were tall and made of a dark oak wood. The walls were as white as pearls, and the chandelier at the ceiling offered ample light to those just coming inside. The floor was made of polished marble, and the newcomers gawked at the lavish gold crowning on the walls.

It was a moment before they noticed they weren't the first to arrive. A tall man in a long, black coat awaited them, with long gray hair slicked back into a ponytail. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and he stood very straight. His head turned when he heard them come, then he faced them completely and waved, smiling amiably from behind his sunglasses.

"This is Jason Wyngard, or Mastermind. He has the ability to impose illusions on any but the strongest of minds."

"How do you do?" he said with somewhat of an accent. They smiled and responded before noticing Pietro enter with another young man of his own age. Pietro they knew, or at least had met before on the night Magneto first came to them, and they had in fact met him first. He grinned at them and waved, leading his companion toward them. Magneto nodded to his son, and Pietro walked to his side.

"Hello again, ladies," he smirked, "I see you've been brought into the fold nicely. I'd like you to meet my friend, St. John Allerdyce. His ability is pyrokinetics, thus his codename is Pyro." St. John smiled and nodded.

"G'day, sheilas!" His accent was thickly Australian. St. John stood just about the same height as Pietro, and their charismatic, almost arrogant grins were practically identical. While Pietro was a perfect copy of his father, albeit younger, St. John was a very different looking sort of young man. His hair was short, but thick, and bright orange in color. It shot upward like the fire he held control of, and it completely offset his impish green eyes, which were intense and alert. His smile was wide, but dark; his eyebrows seemed furrowed at all times. He had the appearance of a madman. Not only would Magneto later confirm their suspicions of this speculation, but they would also learn for themselves that this was true, not merely an aphorism.

It was then that Toad hopped back in. With a distraught look on his face, he leapt right to Magneto's side.

"I could not find Sabretooth, and Miss Wanda is out for the day, master," he said, looking up with his pearly, fishlike eyes.

"I told Wanda to be here for this…but I suppose an introduction can wait until tomorrow. Sabretooth, on the other hand, can't have gone far. He hasn't completely recovered from his previous injuries," Magneto began to move out of the mansion's atrium, and motioned for everyone to follow. He instructed his new recruits to follow him, and Pietro and St. John to search outside. Toad slowly padded behind Magneto and the two women.

"About those injuries, master," Toad began hesitantly, "I don't think it would be too surprising if you saw what he did to the rec room just this morning." Apparently, the rec room was what they were passing at that moment, because Magneto stopped dead in his tracks after double taking a glance into the room. The girls stopped behind him and looked in as well; what they saw was a mess.

The rec room was in fact mostly a weight training room of sorts, but it contained other fitness equipment as well. Or at least it had at one time. The entire room was in shambles. Barbells were scattered everywhere, equipment lay bent, cut, and crushed on the ground, and there were slashes in the walls as if made by a blade, but the cuts were uncannily spaced like fingernails. The four of them stood staring into the room for several minutes. Magneto saw nothing but several hours of repair work ahead of himself to piece all of the equipment back together with his extraordinary gifts. It was either that, or spend several thousands of dollars to replace it all. Before he had the chance to stifle an angry roar, Pietro appeared behind him suddenly.

"I've found him, father. He's out past the gardens in the forest... Heh-heh, I see you've found it. He's not in a good mood today, so I suggest you keep your distance," he said aside to the girls before running off again.

Magneto stood still for another moment, then with an irritated expression, motioned for them to follow again. Toad trailed behind, although his enthusiasm considerably weakened.

"They talk about him like he's some kind of monster," Cheryl said indignantly.

"As he prides himself in being so," Magneto responded, still agitated, "like his namesake, he is wild and unpredictable. Anger rules his heart, and violence his soul, as you have seen." Before continuing, he made a low growling noise. "Although difficult to deal with at times, for the time being, he works for me. I suspect the only reason for that is that I can pay him better than most, steadily, as long as I need the muscle. He's not without intelligence either, particularly concerning survival. He certainly is useful."

They were walking through the garden once more then. The Misfits once again looked around them at the beautiful plants, stone walls, and now noticed a large fountain in the middle of the space they had not seen on the way in. Their previous bliss, however, was ruined by apprehension. For one, there was the sniveling creature still skulking behind them. For another, there was Sabretooth. The way the others seemed to regard him and the way Magneto had described him made them wonder why, if he was so dangerous, they were being introduced to him at all. Neither spoke, but they had the same fears. They stared ahead of them at Magneto's back, following obediently.

Outside of the garden, it became apparent without doubt that the mansion sat on a mountainside. The ground sloped downward from the garden walls, the incline covered by deciduous trees. Magneto stopped momentarily to judge which direction they should take. Cheryl and Kiley eyed each other, but Magneto moved decisively toward the left, giving them the impression that he actually knew where he was leading them.

Down they walked in silence until they reached another flat plain, where the trees grew farther apart. They could see the glistening water of a wide lake ahead of them, and Magneto paused once more. He scanned the area of the lake for a moment, until finally he glimpsed what he sought. They moved again, and the two women noticed that Toad was trailing further and further behind. Cheryl looked at Kiley, distressed, but Kiley shrugged. Magneto seemed to be unafraid, and had said that Toad was a coward. She thought they should see this man for themselves before they develop an irrational terror of him.

Cheryl sneezed. Kiley looked at her partner once more, who rubbed her nose lightly.

"It must be pollen," Cheryl said, using her sleeve to rub her nose once again. That was enough for Kiley. They walked ahead, unconcerned about the matter. Then she sneezed again. Her senses were being assaulted by some unseen foe. She could suddenly barely breathe, and her eyes watered. When Kiley noticed, she stopped, almost as if she meant to catch her friend if she should fall. With the next sneeze, it almost looked as though she would. Magneto paused and looked back, looking at them strangely. He came closer, inspecting them.

"Are you quite all right?" he asked Cheryl. Covering her nose with both hands, she nodded, and sneezed tremendously once more. She sighed.

"That one hit the spot. I think I'm much better now, thanks," Cheryl waved her friend away, and told Magneto to lead on. They stared at her. Hesitantly, they complied. Magneto walked ahead once again, and soon, they were at their destination.

Up ahead, in a small cluster of trees, was a rather large man with his back to them. He was sitting on a fallen tree trunk, looking impartially at the water in front of him. His hair was long and feathery like the mane of a lion, and his entire form seemed to be packed with muscle. He was preoccupied with his thoughts.

Then, when they were barely one hundred paces away, he turned his head slightly, then stood, facing them. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his head tilted. As they came closer, they all noticed that the bottom half of his face was covered by a black mask. Magneto's eyebrows rose, and Toad flinched. Cheryl and Kiley uneasily halted with Toad as Magneto walked closer to the man, raising his arm in welcome.

"There you are, Creed, we've been searching for you. So this is where you disappear to, eh? No matter."

As Magneto spoke, the newcomers could hardly help but notice how tall the man was. Magneto was considerably taller than they, and this man, several inches more than that. His shoulders were broad, and his muscles considerable but lean, adding to his intimidating appearance, but he had as of yet still not spoken. He merely stared down at Magneto, who was now next to him, talking about other things. He had just gotten to discussing the catastrophe that was once the rec room when Cheryl sneezed again.

"Gesundheit," said Toad.

"Ah, yes," Magneto turned back towards them, smiling once more, thinking that the rec room could wait until later, "I'd like you to meet someone, Creed. These two young ladies are our newest additions. Cheryl and Kiley, the two Pietro and I went out to search for," he waved them closer. Covering her nose once more, Cheryl followed Kiley slowly.

"Cheryl, Kiley, this is Victor Creed, better known as Sabretooth," Magneto introduced them, and the big man nodded to them both. "Unfortunately, Sabretooth has recently been engaged in a fight from which he received considerable damage. One of his mutant gifts is an extraordinary healing capability, which has, as of yet, not pieced his jaw tissue back together. We are unsure as to the reason for this; his healing factor should take care of all wounds simultaneously, no matter the severity. Because of this, he cannot speak for a time. He's been keeping to himself mostly since then, but must have donned this facemask for your sakes. It wasn't a pretty sight." Sabretooth once again nodded to this, his eyes perceptive, but unaffected.

"There were still holes straight through his cheeks this morning. Disgusting," Toad stuck his long tongue out. Sabretooth glared down at him and snarled. They heard a squeak from Toad, and nothing more, for the remainder of their visit in the woods.

Kiley suddenly noticed the talons. Each of Creed's fingernails were an inch long, and black as charcoal. They came to a point, and looked as though they could tear through steel. Both Victor and Magneto noticed her staring at them.

"Another of Sabretooth's mutant gifts, my dear," Magneto spoke for him once again, "grafted with the indestructible metal adamantium. Under the service of Canada's '_Weapon X_,' Creed has gone through the same agonizing procedure as your friend Wolverine. His entire skeleton is now unbreakable, save by very powerful fields of magnetism, such as the ones I am able to create…" Magneto paused. Creed looked sideways at him. Cheryl felt a chill. And then she sneezed again.

The other four mutants in her company stared at her. It had been a loud one.

"God bless you," Kiley said after a moment.

"Thanks," Cheryl said, covering her nose again, "I think I need to go inside." She turned around and began walking away.

"Lead her back up the trail, Toad," Magneto ordered, "and take her into the house. Get Pietro or St. John to show her around. We shall follow momentarily." Cheryl cringed, and looked pleadingly at Kiley, but allowed Toad to take her back to the mansion. Kiley stayed behind simply because Magneto's hand was on her shoulder, holding her there. Being restrained, she watched Toad like a hawk until he and Cheryl were out of sight, and Magneto began speaking again. She saw Toad eyeing her friend, but nothing more, so she began to pay more attention to her boss.

Magneto decided to leave the rec room incident for a time when Sabretooth could explain himself. The mutant Master of Magnetism did not expect his most obstinate henchman to do so, but he had other things on his mind for the moment.

"I wasn't completely honest when I said my son was the only member of my Brotherhood with any sense of stealth," Magneto explained, turning back to her, "Sabretooth is very crafty, and akin to a feline hunting prey, it comes naturally to him." The cat reference concerned Kiley, but she wasn't sure why. "I would like the two of you to get to know him better, once he is capable of speaking again. You may be teamed up often in times when stealth is necessary."

"It'll be a pleasure, Mr. Creed," Kiley smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.

Quickly, Sabretooth lifted his hand. His companions looked up at him, and coming to a realization, Magneto nodded.

"It is simply 'Creed,' fraulein. There is no need for such formality. Unless he has decided he likes you enough for you to refer to him as 'Victor.'" He looked up slyly at the taller man, who glared at him. "Yes, I suppose that would be pushing it, wouldn't it? Creed is like myself. No one calls him by his first name, save those he is close to. Also like myself, those people are few. However, no one knows Creed's middle name, and so he is known thusly." Kiley had gotten the impression that Magneto liked to talk. Of course, he was speaking for someone else now. Even if Creed could have spoken for himself, Kiley saw him as a man of considerably fewer words.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Inside the house, Cheryl had managed to escape Toad, only to find herself lost. She had never seen a house so large, much less been inside one, and she was beside herself with confusion. She remembered the way from the garden to the atrium, but did not know where to go from there. She thought to herself that it might have been worth following Toad a few more minutes to be given a tour by the two most attractive Acolytes, Pyro and Quicksilver. She plopped herself into a cushiony chair, wondering if she should explore by herself.

It had seemed to her that she had been sitting for half an hour, debating whether she was technically still a guest, therefore making further exploration on her own rude, or if she was now a resident, when the front door opened. She stood suddenly, not knowing what to expect. Following several large shopping bags came a tall brunette woman wearing headphones. Closing the large wooden door behind her, fiddling with the bags on her arm, and listening to her music, she took no notice of Cheryl whatsoever. Cheryl remained still, waiting for something to happen.

Indeed, in a rush of air, Pietro suddenly appeared in the room, taking the bags from the unidentified woman, who smiled and removed the headset. Pietro looked up, waving to Cheryl. St. John entered then, having followed Pietro from another part of the house when they heard the door.

"Cheryl, this is my twin sister Wanda! Wanda, this is one of the girls father has found. I suppose Kiley is still with him," Pietro had an arm around his sister and was holding the bags with the other.

"How do you do," Wanda smiled warmly, shaking Cheryl's hand, "father has talked about you two for days. I'm glad you're finally here, I hope you're comfortable."

"Bewildered, actually," Cheryl confessed, "this is a bit more than what I'm used to."

"I realize you and Kiley haven't exactly been living the debutante lifestyle up to now," Pietro started, to be interrupted by Cheryl.

"I believe the term you're searching for is 'street urchins,'" she muttered.

"But we're going to take care of you now," Pietro went on, seeming not to notice, "The Acolytes will provide you with what you need. We are a family."

"So that makes Magneto some kind of mutant Godfather?" Cheryl joked with a skeptical expression. Pietro didn't seem to get it, but St. John was roaring with laughter.

"Ach," St. John sighed after the outburst subsided, "Europeans…" Pietro ignored him.

"I, eh, gather you've met Creed then?" the silver-haired heir went on.

"Yes. He's an interesting sort," Cheryl understated, nodding. "And very, very tall."

"That he is. And very, very mean. _Usually_, he doesn't mean anything by it when he's around us. But he could pick someone your size up with his little finger, so don't make him angry," St. John grinned, in all seriousness.

"I'll keep that in mind," Cheryl nodded once again, not surprised.

"Well then," Pietro clapped his hands together, "how about we show you around your new home?"

Cheryl smiled at the word. She had never truly had one since she was forced to leave Texas. She and Kiley had had to relocate every few months since the time they first met. She took Pietro's and St. John's offered arms and allowed them to lead.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

That evening, Kiley sat alone in the mansion's enormous library, reading Dostoyevsky. Magnus had had other things to take care of, and he took Creed with him. He had asked her what her interests were. Kiley had many, but when she said "books," Magnus smiled and nodded, and led her here and left her to her own devices, saying dinner would be in a few hours.

Glad that she would once again have time for reading, she kicked her shoes off, curled into a large chair and engrossed herself in the first text she could reach, which happened to be Crime and Punishment. The room contained hundreds of manuscripts; almanacs, encyclopedias, classical literature, historical documents, and other things, in several different languages. Kiley could speak very little of three languages aside from English, and so decided to devote some of her free time to learning more. There was no shortage of material here to help her on the way.

A giddy smile spread across her face. Finally, she wouldn't have to depend on theft to stay alive. She wouldn't have to worry about her best friend's safety when they were separated. The two of them would probably never have to pickpocket in the streets to buy their next meal ever again. In fact, they were now living in one of the largest houses either had ever seen. It wasn't quite as big as Cassidy Keep, but Kiley was content not to be reminded of the place. She felt safe here, in a way a young girl could not in a big, drafty castle full of restless spirits.

Kiley owed Magnus a great deal, and she liked him. He seemed an old-fashioned gentleman, but had a dark past that at one time had probably driven him mad. He still suffered from that madness. She could see it during their confrontation back in Chicago. The saying goes that "power corrupts," she thought, and that "absolute power corrupts absolutely." Magneto was supposedly the most powerful mutant alive. What, then, had those awe-inspiring powers he possessed done to his mind?

The door creaked open. Kiley looked up to see Creed coming in, closing it behind him again. Seeming not to pay her any mind, he sat in a chair across from her and picked up a novel from the table between them. She read "Tom Clancey" from the spine, but quickly averted her eyes before Creed could notice her watching him.

"I bet it hurts," she caught herself saying aloud, thinking about what might be underneath the mask he still wore. She suddenly remembered Magneto saying that Creed had excellent hearing. "Oh, shoot!" she blurted, "My big mouth! I'm so sorry…" Creed shrugged.

After watching him from lowered eyes for a moment, he waved his hand slightly, as if to say, "a bit." The distant, disaffected look remained in his eyes. He didn't look irritated, at least. Deciding to go on, she looked up at him. Not sure what to say, she allowed herself to think out loud.

"Everyone's been very kind," she began, noting that he was paying attention, "I hope that I won't disappoint Magneto on our first mission. Although his methods of employing us were a little unorthodox, we owe him our lives for bringing us in. We've managed on our own up until now, but I've been afraid to admit that I didn't think we would survive that way much longer." Creed was now looking at her directly rather than listening to her over his reading. She swallowed nervously. She had decided from the beginning that she wasn't going to be afraid of him until he gave her reason to, but his appearance was very intimidating. His being unable to speak seemed only to add to the illusion of a wild beast sitting across from her.

"Er, I gathered from the others that you're somewhat of a loner. If you don't mind my saying so, it does seem like you're very different from the rest of them," she watched one of his eyebrows raise and lowered her gaze, starting to feel panicky, "I mean, the others seem to know where they stand with each other, but they seem to avoid you," she felt she was making things worse, "they all just seem so," she was perspiring at this point, and had to pause to breathe, "together."

"You sayin' I don't fit in, frail?" came a gruff, deep voice from out of nowhere, and Kiley actually shrieked and recoiled. Realizing the voice came from the man across from her, her heart started beating again, and she forced herself to breathe. Creed chuckled, pulling the black cloth from his face. There was no trace of whatever had been done to his lower jaw, and he took it in his palm and began flexing it. Determining it was as good as new, he looked back at Kiley and smirked. "Well?"

After staring at him another moment, she regained her senses. "But…I thought you couldn't move your jaw this afternoon!"

"I couldn't." he said simply, still waiting for an answer.

"Magnificent…"

"There are many advantages to possessing an accelerated healing factor. But you have yet to explain yourself." He continued to smirk.

"Well," she paused, "I just meant that…you remind me of myself."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Wanda placed two extra plates at the table. Pietro and St. John insisted on cooking that night. Jason had joked that if all else failed, he could trick the entire dinner party into thinking it tasted like chicken. Wanting to give the two a chance, she shot back with "that would seem a bit odd, considering we're eating salmon tonight." It made sense, Pietro and St. John in the kitchen. With the two of them preparing meals, the household would never need various appliances again, including, and probably most obviously an oven.

Cheryl was helping her set the table. The younger woman had been wondering where her friend had gotten off to. Magneto had shown himself again not too long before then, but without Kiley. He stopped long enough to inquire whether Cheryl was comfortable yet, but hurried along afterward. His son explained that Magneto often got this way during the evening hours, having many things to think about, many things to get done, and retreating to his study on the second floor where he would often remain for hours at a time. Cheryl was honestly beginning to wonder if he was eccentric.

When food started being brought out, Magnus reappeared again, dressed in a suit more conventional than his costume. Thinking to herself, she would have barely noticed his entry, had he not spoken.

"Pardon my saying so, mein kinder, but doesn't this look strangely like Chinese take-out?" Magneto inspected the layout of the table.

"That, 'vater,' is because it is indeed. St. John sort of over-did the fish," said Pietro, bringing in several of the small, white containers that seem universal among Chinese take-out restaurants. Magnus sighed.

"It can be eaten raw, you know," he said, and then dryly mumbled, "at least you're feeding yourselves."

Across from where Magnus had entered, Toad leapt in, followed by Kiley and Sabretooth. Cheryl brightened, nearly hurdling over Magneto to get to Kiley. Before she got to her side, Cheryl was halted by a sneeze.

"Bless you!" Kiley caught her before she took a nosedive.

"Oh, I'm fine," Cheryl sniffled, "I guess it's just back, that's all."

"It wasn't that cold in Chicago, I wonder where you caught this cold," Kiley mused, then shrugged and led Cheryl to the dinner table.

"I don't know that it's a cold. Either way, I'm hungry. Let's just eat now and think about it later." To that, all agreed, and so dinner was on.

"Take out again?" Toad mumbled, looking at the table with disgust. Cheryl looked over at him. His voice sounded completely different from the sniveling little creature he had been. When she realized she was staring, she tried to forget it. Perhaps it was a figment of her imagination.

She grabbed Kiley's hand and pulled her into a seat next to one she was taking. Pietro quickly pushed St. John into the seat next to Cheryl, while he took the one opposite Kiley. St. John stared at him bewildered until everyone else had taken their places and began shoveling food on their plates. Pietro didn't hesitate to begin dumping large quantities onto the girls' plates of all the things they should try. Magnus would have commented on how rude his son was being, except that as he watched, he realized that, as far as the younger Acolytes were concerned, the girls were already a part of their family.

Wanda, sitting across from the newcomers, went on ceaselessly about the villages and nearest cities to the reclusive mansion and all the places she would have to take them to see. Having been the only woman among them until now, Wanda had accepted them outright, to Magnus' pleasure. Jason chuckled in sympathy for the girls throughout the entire meal, amused at St. John and the twins for talking as much and as fast as they could, competing for their attention. Magnus laughed a bit himself at his children's antics. Toad continued to mutter to himself.

When Magnus looked at Creed, he noticed something different. Creed was usually quiet when he was eating, unless he was annoyed. This night, Creed smiled a bit to himself. Also something he rarely did. He seemed almost content. He listened to the chattering of the younger people, watching the new girls, and laughed with a soft, placid expression. Magnus continued to eye Creed until he eyed him right back, grinning at a comment St. John had just made about Pietro's power, which Magnus found entirely inappropriate.

Still, the entire table howled with laughter, and Pietro gave them all dirty looks. He was smiling, however, making it difficult to take him seriously.

"Just wait," he pointed menacingly at John, "I'll get you for that." A few laughs and it was left at that.

At his place at the head of the table, Magnus watched his small band of mutants with pride. Each and every one of them, even his own two children, had been chosen because of their abilities to join his band of outlaws. Careful thought and planning went into every decision. Still, even with the diversity of personalities, the rag-tag band of loners and Misfits seemed to click. This was everything Magnus had ever wanted for mutant-kind. They were a family.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Kiley found Creed outside once again, watching the twilight sky on the veranda. Somehow she knew he could sense her, but he said nothing until she stood right next to him.

"Isn't your friend looking for you?"

"Wanda and Pietro and the others asked us to hang out for a while. I thought I'd come visit for a few minutes while Magneto finishes showing Cheryl around the grounds. You spend a lot of time outside, don't you?"

"Whenever I've got a spare moment. Things have been pretty quiet around the mansion, thanks to you girls. Magnus' been focusin' a lot of energy on finding you." Sabretooth turned, leaning on one arm on a stone wall.

"I still don't know if we should be flattered or terrified," Kiley replied candidly.

"You've got nothing to fear from Magneto. He'll take care of the both of you for as long as you're employed here. He believes being brought into the Acolytes is an honor."

"And you don't?"

"I prefer to work alone. Gotta make a living somehow though. I do a lot of work for various clients, some more regular than others, but Magnus offered me a roof between jobs. Here, I'm free to come and go as I like. To me, that's what's good about being an Acolyte." Sabretooth said gruffly.

"But what about Magnus' principles? Do you believe he's right about the human-mutant situation?"

"I couldn't care less. Do I look like a man who gets along with the general public, frail? Although I do believe the humans have it comin'." When he finished, Kiley said nothing. She was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"What do you think?" Sabretooth went on, now curious.

"I think a lot of mutants feel the way I do," she said, letting a sigh escape. Her shoulders slumped a bit.

"Got someone you're lookin' to pay back?" he finally looked at her, looking for an honest answer.

Kiley thought on it a moment, looking down. Finally, she replied, "no. Anyone I had a score to settle with is long since dead."

"What about Cassidy? I hear he made quite a fuss when Magnus came to collect the two of you."

"You know my-" she stopped short, and after taking another breath, corrected herself, "…you know Cassidy?"

"'Course I know Cassidy. Back in the day, he and I worked together while he still worked for Interpol. I was with the Canadian and American governments. Can't say we catch up on old times too often…" he chuckled, "so, what about him? What's he to you?"

Creed's candor made her wince.

"He's my adopted brother. All that's left of the family. I hadn't seen him since before the Cassidys ran me out of their home. He did try to stop Magnus from taking us."

"Man's got some nerve."

"He certainly does," Kiley mumbled, "hey, enough about that. Why don't you come with me to the lounge room? Pietro and St. John were talking about some video games for an all-nighter. I'm sure there's room for one more. Even room for you."

Creed stared at her for a moment. It was strange for him to feel so placid toward anyone, but the girl's straightforward, unrelenting attitude toward him calmed him. She wanted to get along with all of the Acolytes, with the possible exception of Toad, but Creed could tell that she felt the closest connection to him. Oddly enough, despite the fact that in all his years, he'd never truly warmed up to anyone, especially not the other Acolytes, he felt the same.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

When Kiley had shown up with Creed, no one even batted an eyelash in protest. It was all fun and games now that the whole gang was together, with food and cider and fun. Pietro pulled Kiley in, sitting her down next to Cheryl and himself, and they played several different card games, not least among them was one of Kiley's favorites, Texas Hold'em. Kiley was supreme in the poker tournament, but was usurped by Cheryl at Hearts. They were both beaten at Spades terribly,

The younger Acolytes then played a large group game of Ghost Recon 2, and even Creed and Jason were pulled in. Creed seemed bored, even in a trance-like state, and he was better than any of them had expected. Some of the Acolytes then remembered unsettlingly that Creed had experienced combat not unlike in the game for decades before becoming a mercenary.

When they'd had their fill of war and guns, they moved on to 3-D fighters. At first, they all took turns fighting each other, but soon it became a personal vendetta between Pietro and St. John.

"It always turns out this way," Wanda had whispered to the other girls, "the rest of us have learned to live with it. Besides, it gets good when their blood pressures start to rise."

When the girls began to yawn and think about bed, Creed had begun jeering the two young men. They growled and challenged him to see if he could do any better. Creed then shoved them both aside and soundly beat their high scores into submission. The two gawked in disbelief, then tried to lure Creed into a duel against both of them. Creed scoffed and exited, wounding the boys' pride not just a bit.

After the riot that had caused, Cheryl and Kiley announced they were heading to their room. Pietro stood up and gave them both a big hug and sent them on their way. On the stairs, they heard Magneto calling them from behind. He was also on his way up from a long night in his office.

He called to wait on him, and they did. Smiling as he caught up to them, he walked them the rest of the way.

"I take it from the ruckus I heard that the party went well?" he chuckled.

"With a grand finale to boot," Cheryl sighed, barely lifting her feet high enough to climb the next step, she was so tired.

"I guess no one ever knew Creed was that good with video games," Kiley snickered.

"Creed?" Magnus started.

"Sure. He handed Pietro and St. John their figurative livers at every game they tried to challenge him with," Cheryl yawned and laughed at the same time, making for a bizarre noise. As they reached their door, Magnus opened it for them.

"Is my home to your satisfaction, frauen?" he asked, bowing in the doorway.

Both smiled and said that they approved highly. Magnus laughed and said good night, shutting the door behind him. When he had gone, the two collapsed into the beds.

"Geez, my nose has really been itching like crazy today," Cheryl said drowsily, warding off sleep as best she could, "maybe I'm allergic to Europe."

"Allergic? You mean you still don't think it's a cold?" Kiley turned on her stomach to face her friend.

"Not at all."

"Wait a minute!" Kiley quickly sat up, startling Cheryl, "Magneto told me something earlier that I thought sounded strange! Well, there are a lot of strange things going on around here, but this was just weird. Magneto said something like, 'Sabretooth is crafty, like a feline hunting prey.' You're allergic to cats, right? Well…I think Magneto keeps a pretty big one."

"I think Magneto was using that as a figure of speech, Kiley." Cheryl added, aghast.

"He may have meant it that way, but you saw Creed too! He looks a lot like a cat."

"But he's a human! I mean, a mutant!"

"Yeah. A mutant."

"I'm allergic to Sabretooth." Cheryl responded after a brief pause.

"Seems so."

After another pause, Cheryl sank back into her pillow and sighed. "I'm going to be sneezing my head off for the rest of my life, aren't I? I mean, assuming we do stay."

"Seems so."

Kiley watched Cheryl for a moment, and then likewise settled back into her own mattress.

"You two seemed to be getting along anyway," Cheryl glared at her.

"What do you mean? We started talking in the library this afternoon. He was interesting, to say the least."

"The others told me he's psychotic."

"I believe them." Kiley shrugged. She had gotten the impression on first meeting Creed that he was dangerous, but even before that, looking into the recreation room, she could have believed he was ballistic. "But we got along. It's too bad he gives you hay fever; you might actually like him."

"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm beat. And my nose is starting to feel normal again. I don't want to waste this opportunity," Cheryl's eyes were drifting shut as she spoke. Kiley didn't feel much like sleeping, but still thought it would be a good idea.

"Right. We should probably take this to Magneto in the morning. I don't know if his plans for teaming the three of us up are such great ideas now," she looked over at Cheryl again, who was already asleep. Kiley smiled. She buried her head under the warm, cushy blankets and drifted off as well.


End file.
